


The Lilacs in the Jar

by juniperchild



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Salem Witch Trials, Smut, based on a play i read in tenth grade english class, hella cute, malum
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-10
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-19 10:54:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5964655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juniperchild/pseuds/juniperchild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's impossible for Calum and Michael to be themselves in the town of Salem Grove. </p><p>This mere work of fiction is inspired by Arthur Miller's 'The Crucible'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lilacs in the Jar

**Author's Note:**

> A/N
> 
> Okay, so, this is inspired by The Crucible. Great play. If you have not read it, you do not need it to read this.
> 
> Disclaimer: This is fiction for a reason.  
> Everything is not 100% true.  
> The town I created is made up.  
> None of this pertains to the members of 5SOS.  
> This was only created for the fans.  
> This story can be found only on AO3 at this time. Brief thanks to all that give my story a chance. ENJOY! -j.c❥

"What are you so afraid of?" Calum whisper-asks after stripping himself naked, patiently waiting for Michael to do the same.

But the hesitant boy is having doubts about Calum's desires. What if he changes his mind at the last minute? What if it causes either one of them unbearable pain? What if—perhaps—someone sees them? What if Calum realizes that Michael is simply _not good enough_ for the incredulously attractive boy?

Calum can see the bashful expression on Michael's pallid face even in the pitch blackness of the night. And Michael can tell the boy assumes that he is only reacting out of anxiousness, but _no_ , there is clearly something more. The problem is that Calum fails to comprehend what it is.

Michael has everything he needs, so what is he _so_ fucking afraid of? They're right where it all started. The two of them are surrounded by the thing that brought them up to this point—the lake. If the beautiful body of water covered with lavender lilacs is not enough to show his affection for Michael, then he doesn't know what will. But then he starts to get a more clear picture.

 _Abigail_. Abigail Breslin. Okay, _yeah_ , Calum may be a bit envious of her and a little upset with himself for feeling the need to compete with a girl. However, he always did a great job at not letting his façade break. After all, it is _him_ that is sharing this moment with Michael, not _her_.

Just as Calum had let himself drift off into his thoughts, Michael starts shaking. Not in the violent way that he can sometimes manage to do, but more in a manner indicating how cold he is.

Calum pulls him into his embrace, wrapping his arms around his back. He smiles knowingly at the boy shivering in his arms.

"You're allowed to be afraid, Michael."

"But what if—"

"But what if _what_ , hmm?"

Michael bites his lip in fear of his boyfriend's reaction. "But what if I don't like it?"

Calum stares into the air for a minute before looking back at Michael, a small smile forming on his face. He has a feeling that there's more to it than just what the snowflake blonde will admit.

"If you don't like it, we don't have to follow through with it. Simple as that."

"But, Cal—"

"You actually think I'm capable of hurting you?"

Michael looks to the ground as he finds sudden interest in his fingers. "Not intentionally."

Calum smiles brightly, showing all of his teeth for the boy that he cares for. He takes a step toward him so they're only standing centimeters apart. The nervous boy lets out a shaky breath while Calum undoes his navy trousers, sliding them down quickly. It isn't until he is undoing Michael's button up shirt that he takes in the pondering look on his face.

"Michael." Calum is forced to speak again as the timid boy does not answer. "Mikey, please look at me."

Michael brings his eyes up to focus on Calum, shame and sadness present in his beautiful green irises. Calum can sense some vulnerability there too. He almost gets lost in those mesmerizing eyes, and those gorgeous full lips, not to mention the short hairs resting at his very even hairline. Almost _too_ gone to hear Michael say...

"I'm very nervous, Cal."

The daring boy places a soft peck on the right corner of Michael's lips. Just the smallest amount of fondness is enough for Calum to earn the awaited smile that makes it worthwhile.

"But I love you, Michael."

Michael nods without a doubt. "Cal, I understand that. And _I_ love _you_.  _So_  much."

"But do you trust me?"

"Yes."

Calum stares into Michael's eyes, losing himself with the thought of being rejected by the only person that truly matters. He would surely do anothing for Michael Gordon Clifford so why can't he return the favor for a day? He fails to control his instincts when he lets out a helpless whine.

"Then trust me when I tell you that we will be alright. I promise, Michael."

Michael takes a moment to choose whether or not to believe his boyfriend. A part of him wants to say yes, but the other has a hard time erasing that _horrifying_ sight from his memory. Eventually the reluctant boy comes around to nod his head in agreement.

Calum is not convinced, but he proceeds to removing Michael's shirt from his narrow shoulders anyway, along with his underwear and over-sized socks that were surely borrowed from their friend, Luke. He gently tugs on his boyfriend's hand as their legs disappear further and further into the stream of the lake. Michael can see the lilacs floating on top of the water even without the presence of light.

The two teenage boys stand in the center of the lake, taking in each other's body heat and the coldness of the stream. This is their way of zooming out of the bigger picture. The two forbidden lovers often wanted an escape from the principles of Salem Grove, and the lake has been their getaway since before they can remember.

Calum is the one to attach their lips together. His calloused hands trail up either side of Michael, finding their way onto his flushed cheeks.

He tugs on Michael's lips with his own pair and receives the moan that he desperately wants to hear. Calum can't help but kiss the snowflake blonde with passion, enjoying the sentiment of his lover's tongue as the two of theirs swirl together provisionally. Michael's fingers move as if he is playing a piano, roaming near the surface of Calum's broad shoulders.

The proximity is everything Michael could ever ask for, yet he still wants more. He wants all the assurance he can get from Calum, telling him that everything is going to be alright. He wants to believe that what they have will last forever despite the rules they must live by in Salem Grove.

Michael wraps his fingers around the back of Calum's neck, allowing the dark haired boy to deepen the kiss whenever he begs for do so. He brings his body closer to his, unintentionally reminding himself of the scar that resides on Calum's chest. Michael winces even though he is not the one with the wound.

Calum breaks the kiss and rests his forehead on Michael's. "Alright, what are you so bothered by now?"

Michael doesn't know if he is relieved or upset at the fact that Calum did not notice what caused the change in his mood. But now that it's on his mind, Michael can't take his eyes off of the slash mark that he caused. The long and ugly mark that will always remind him of the fuck-up of a person that he thinks he is.

Calum, finally noticing what Michael's eyes are glued on, says, "Please don't worry about me, Michael. I'm alright."

"Well, I'll never be. It was me who did that to you. It was _me_ who caused _you_ that pain. I'm so sorry, Calum."

He sighs and looks at Michael before bringing the boy's hand up to rest on the displeasing scar. It would be a lie if Calum said he wasn't a little hurt by the way Michael reacted as if he had touched fire.

"Hey," Calum requests for Michael's undivided attention before he could go off on his typical ramble session, lifting said boy's chin with his right hand. "I said I'm okay—"

"Okay, Calum. I get that—but, I'm not. I'm not okay with watching you get tortured to death. I don't want to see you _suffer_ because of me. See, this—this is what I don't get. Why are you even still here? After everything that happened. Why do you still care about me? Fuck, Cal—I don't get you, mate."

Calum stares at Michael's lips, chuckling softly as they continue to move in frustration. He knows that Michael is fearful about what could possibly happen if one becomes aware of their forbidden love for each other.

"Michael, I will always care about you. We have been in this together for thirteen years, don't you remember?"

The timid boy traces two of his fingers along Calum's slash wound, the look of sorrow still evident on his face. " _Sure_."

"I've never been so _sure_." Calum looks at Michael to assure him that he is being honest, halfway mocking him. "I remember when we were three—we were so young and practically had just met, but we'd still go out and play right here in the lake. Even though our parents forbade us to do so. And you'd ask me to put the lilacs in your hair—"

"Oh my god, Calum. Stop."

"And I'd just take a big strand of your hair and tie the stem around it. You looked so pretty _._ "

Michael hides his face in the crook of Calum's neck, blushing uncontrollably at the perfect word chosen to describe him. If his mum had heard Calum call him such a thing, she would surely be sending both of them to the hollow pits of hell. Calum wraps his arms around him and kisses the spot below his ear. His nose gets lost in the scent of Michael's hair. Lilacs.

"I've never loved anyone before, Michael. There's a first time for everything, you know?"

"You make an excellent point." And Michael knows that Calum is the only to have this effect on him. It's been like that since the beginning of time, and Michael can't help believing that it will end that way as well. He places his ear to his chest, listening to the music of Calum's heart. "I can hardly believe we're here."

The smile on Michael's face falters when he feels Calum's hard on press up against his own growing shaft. He succeeds at biting back the groan that he truthfully wants the whole fucking world to hear. Michael would like to inform all of humanity that he is not only taken, but belongs to Calum Thomas Hood. If only the possibilities were endless.

"Shit, Michael—I'm so fucking glad you're mine." Calum watches Michael's lip quiver as he rubs his hard on against him. It turns him on when his boyfriend is hot and bothered. Michael groans with a bit of annoyance because he is just _craving_ to get himself off.

As if reading his mind, Calum starts stroking him at a rapid pace. Michael allows a soft moan to escape from his swollen lips and the two boys are apparently head over heels for each other. The dark haired boy bites his lip at how worked up the other boy is. He thinks it's humanely impossible for anyone to be more beautiful than Michael.

Calum groans under his breath when Michael is spilling onto his hand. He rubs it onto himself, infatuated with the thought of using Michael's slick as a lubricant. Once their eyes connect, they establish a conversation through locked stares. Michael nods his head as if already being informed of what Calum was about to say.

Without contemplating any further, Calum sticks his fingers in his mouth, pulling them out just in time to gently place them at Michael's entrance. They have done this plenty of times before. Michael tries to control his blushing instincts, but even that is difficult with Calum staring back at him, wanting to be sure and precise before moving forward with him. Michael nods again and sucks in a breath as Calum's fingers find their way inside of him.

He squeals at first, but eventually becomes more satisfied with the feeling after a while because _oh_ , when did two fingers end up inside of him? And then, there were three.

Moments later, Calum's hands glide down Michael's back, trailing over his ass and down his legs until he reaches the back of his knees. He lifts Michael up and wraps his legs around him, looking in his eyes before daring to move.

"Michael, are you okay with this?"

The fearful boy's eyes are closed as he moans softly, desperately wanting to feel Calum inside of him. Desperately missing those fingers that penetrated his prostate just moments ago. "Fucking need you, Calum."

Calum smiles before testing the restrictions. The other boy's eyes open quickly as a shock of pain shoots through his body. He searches Calum's eyes for wanted pleasure, but only receives pain.

"Does it hurt?"

He nods instantly. Michael bites his lip and tries to hide the state of pain he's in in effort to satisfy Calum, but it isn't going as suavely as planned.

"Michael, look at me."

Michael decides to ignore Calum's desires, keeping his face hidden on the boy's shoulder. But when Calum feels the tears rolling down his neck, he stops thrusting and places a gentle kiss on his cheek.

"Look at me, beautiful."

His eyes roam around until they finally find Calum's. He feels so naive and inadequate around him. Meanwhile, Calum tries to take in the mixture of emotions gleaming from Michael's eyes.

"Why are you so afraid of me, hmm?"

Michael sighs, not wanting to look in Calum's eyes. "I'm not afraid of you, Calum. I'm just—afraid of disappointing you."

Calum almost chuckles at the ridiculous reply. He thinks someone such as Michael Clifford could never in one million years do such a thing.

"You could never disappoint me, Mikey."

"Damnit, Cal. I don't know what I'm doing—"

This time, Calum actually chuckles. "Neither do I, Michael. Relax. It's our first time."

"I can't relax, Calum. That's the thing. You're _so_  perfect and I'm _so_ average, and _you_ know what you're doing and _I_ don't, and _fuck_ , it hurts so bad, but I don't want you to think—"

Calum brings his lips to Michael's, shutting him up once and for all. Michael runs his hands through Calum's dark hair and pulls on the tips, making him grunt softly. When Calum's lips withdraw, he stares into Michael's eyes and begins thrusting slowly.

After a while, Michael gasps in ecstasy, growing a bit more fond of the force inside of him. He mutters a train of curse words at the feeling of Calum making love to him. The look in his eyes is all there is needed for Michael to understand that he is in great custody. 

"Shit, Mikey. You're so beautiful. Such a fucking pretty little angel."

"Oh my god." Michael wants to scream because Calum is seriously turning him on. Saying all the little things he wants to hear.

"Tell me that this is how it should be forever." Calum says through endless moans.

"This is—what it should be. Forever. You and me— _fuck_ —you make me feel so fucking good, Calum."

Calum groans almost too loudly, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip as Michael begins moaning his name over and over again.

"Cal." He breathes, squeezing his eyes shut at the pleasant feeling. Both Calum and Michael are close to their climaxes. "Fuck, Cal."

As Michael's moans become more and more audible, Calum connects their lips together again in attempt to hush him. He can feel the fearful boy's moans as they vibrate against his lips, and moments later, he is unable to monitor his noises. Calum groans at the feeling. The two of them falling limp into the lake.

Michael's eyes go wide, and for a minute, he thinks that maybe Calum forgot about the fact that he can't swim. But just as he is coming to that particular conclusion, Calum lets out a string of uncontrollable laughter.

"Stop boxing yourself up and have a little fun, alright? When have I ever let you drown?"

The bashful lad can't really think of a time so he remains silent. Calum begins swimming further out into the lake, causing Michael to panic a bit.

"C'mere, sunshine."

"No. I can't swim, Cal."

Calum extends his arms backward and begins swimming even further away. He turns so that he is on his stomach before lifting himself above the water. The sounds are so silenced that he can hear Michael's sniffles at a distance. Feeling bad, Calum makes his way back over to Michael.

Calum swims forward until he is close to him, frowning at the sight of Michael crying in front of him. He reaches for his hands and pulls the delicate boy into his chest. It is no secret that Michael suffers anxiety, and Calum feels bad for making him feel obligated to swim.

"I'm sorry, Mikey. I didn't mean to make you nervous."

Michael looks up at Calum for a second with glassy eyes, as if searching for honesty. It takes a while for Calum to receive the long waited nod, but when he does, he brings their lips together once more.

Calum grins into the kiss, pulling away as Michael starts looking nervous again. "It's probably almost four by now. Let's get you back over to the village."

.:|:.

Michael sighs at the present sight of his knitted hat. He puts it on regardless, the itchy fabric reminding him of what he's about to do as he heads for the front door. Today is another unwanted work day for him.

The light of the morning is only just creeping into the house. The raggedy old floorboards creak with Michael's every step. He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, feeling exhausted already and he hasn't even started working yet. Michael slips his leather boots onto his sock clad feet and pulls on a pair of white gloves. Boy, doesn't he love Luke's sock collection.

Early mornings are a usual for him now since he meets up with Calum at the lake almost every day. However, it's quite _unusual_ for him to skip breakfast or disregard saying goodbye to his condemning mother. Michael can't help that though. He seriously just wants some time alone before his damn shift starts.

He won't even stop by next door to walk with Ashton as he normally does. When he's completely finished getting dressed, he heads out the door and into the town of Salem Grove.

He passes a few houses and finds himself at the gravel road he's traveled on every day for as long as he can remember. The small rocks crunch at his feet, and he kicks a few of them around just for sport. Trying his best to occupy himself with anything as he makes his walk to New Haven.

Michael continues to make strides down the pathway— _gradually_ , like he doesn't have a place to be. And in a way, he doesn't. Him and Calum both are outsiders in an idealistic town.

It's much different for Calum, though. He can at least manage to gain the respect of others in Salem Grove. Blessed with both charm and intelligence, Calum has never struggled with getting what he wants. He always shows up to work on time, neat and precise when it comes to dress code and working ability. Everything Calum does, he does it with diligence, and above all, he cares for people. Calum refuses to leave people helpless no matter what the circumstances may be.

Michael, _on the other hand_ , is pathetic in the eyes of the town's residents. They think he's a freak. They blame him for not owning up to his wrongdoing, and rather allowing Calum to be struck across his chest. His own mother can't stand the sinful piece of shit that she reluctantly calls her son. He can't blame her either since it was him who practically ruined the great name of the Cliffords.

There's nothing that bothers Michael more than being criticized. The people may not be saying it, but he knows they're thinking it. One would be considered a fool to not see the shame in their eyes. And _God_ , what will they see when they learn of his actions with Calum in the lake? Michael sighs again, mentally cursing himself for thinking too much. That damn habit of his.

The morning is laced with gray tones and it's usual thin horsetail clouds. The grass is damp and sticks to Michael's boots and makes sloshing sounds when he walks lazily off of the gravel path. Wind is blowing. Birds are singing. What a beautiful day to be alive if you're anywhere other than here. About to do anything other than what Michael is.

The journey isn't too long, honestly. Just around a couple of small houses and up a small hill. About fifteen percent of New Haven's residents are out and— _of_ _course_ —no one acknowledges the young boy today. That's for the best. Michael would hate having to come into contact with anyone he doesn't have to. He's already on edge as it is.

The layout of Salem Grove and New Haven is quite strange. New Haven is an extremely small community that has way more welcoming residents than the larger land of Salem Grove. A few years ago, the two communities decided to merge together. So now, they share the courthouse where trials are held, as well as the hanging post.

New Haven and Salem Grove have their separate churches and schools—New Haven Parish and Salem Grove Parish.

Michael goes to New Haven Parish with Ashton, Luke, and Jack—who is one of Luke's older brothers. Its hard because Calum is on the further side of Salem Grove, attending Salem Grove Parish. Things are just complicated that way. But if Michael lived any closer, it'd be a lot harder to keep secrets under tight wraps. Mostly because of a certain Calum.

Lying at the near end of the gravel road is the Abernathy household. A tall, mouthwatering brick building that could make an astounding contrast to Michael's home not too far down the road. With windows, and a small wooden cross at the head of the door. Overgrowth and vines creep up the structure in light loads. Something about it looks kept, however. The way the tones of green blend perfectly with the dark pine. You couldn't _not_ gawk at the house. Especially if you live the way Michael does.

He pushes the wooden door open, then slowly steps in, oddly finding that it is already open. Considering the Abernathy's try their best to keep anyone out at all times.

Michael closes the door quietly and locks it behind him. He is now standing in the fascinating residence of Reverend Abernathy and his daughter, Betty, and— _well_ _,_ _yeah_ —Abigail. Michael releases another sigh, not wanting to think about the girl.

He glances around for a few moments, taking in the familiar sights. The house never gets old on the outside, but for some reason he's sick of what lies within. The house is none other than spotless, packed with handmade furniture, expensive books, and the finest wines. Reverend Abernathy is the only person in all of New Haven and Salem Grove combined with a house made of bricks. Everyone else lives in shacks of straw or even worse for people such as the Cliffords who are sheltered by piles of dry mud.

Reverend Abernathy is so rich that he owns the church in New Haven as well as the one in Salem Grove. So rich that all of his clothing is most likely black.

Michael waltzes around for a brief minute, the smell of fresh pine soothing him a bit from his heavy mindset. As he finds his way into the living room, he sees Ashton dusting off a top shelf that's only just too tall for him. Which is saying something because both boys are six feet tall. Michael finds himself zoning out for a moment, watching him absentmindedly. Just thinking about a few nonsense things. As usual.

"Good mornin', Michael." Ashton suddenly says. Michael blinks a few times and stands up straight at the sound of Ashton's high and formal voice.

"M-morning, Ashton." He murmurs, walking over to the window beside him to stand and watch. Ashton looks over at him for a moment before getting back to work.

And just like that, Michael is gone again. Thinking about what Calum is doing at the very moment. Wondering if his nervousness is just that evident. Mentally questioning why he even chose a job such as being a housekeeper.

For the kazillionth time this day, Michael sighs.

"Tough goin'?"

Michael smiles a small one. "You've no idea."

"Well, 'M gettin' a pretty good theory, mate. S'about the church in Haven, ain't it? Can you believe what happened earlier?" Ashton responds and moves down to dust off a lower dustless shelf. Michael hums in curiosity, confused by what Ashton means.

 _"The Church in Haven?"_ Michael replies instantly because— _no_ —he was not informed about a church, especially not one a half a mile away.

He turns to face his friend, watching him dust off the dustless bookshelf while humming a biblical song. Ashton is wearing his best pair of navy pants and his finest knitted cap. Michael knows not to mess with the hardworking boy during his duties, so he keeps quiet until Ashton sees him lurking.

"Is there anything I can help you with, Michael?"

Michael gulps. "You said something about the church in New Haven?"

"What?" Ashton is astonished by Michael's lack of knowledge. "You ain't hear 'bout the church in Haven burnin' down last night?"

Michael bites his lip. He had no clue about any of the goings ons in New Haven.

"Yeah, it burned down." Ashton murmurs under his breath. Sighing a bit. "It's bein' talked about all over town. Even had a gatherin' at the church in Salem 'bout it. They think Luke's brother's the one responsible—Ben. They s'pose he burnt down the church."

"Luke's brother?"

"Yeah."

Ashton and Michael are both generally shocked, but for different reasons, of course. Michael is surprised because he knows Ben could never do such a thing. Under other conditions, Ashton is confused to how Michael was not mindful of the information earlier. But then he remembers that the younger boy was not at the gathering. Nor was Calum. Perhaps if they hadn't been so busy being sinners in the woods, he would've known.

"Ben went missin' too. Liz and Andrew couldn't find him anywhere. Guess he ran away or somethin'."

Michael, once realizing he's been biting his nails to a sad thin line, pushes his hand to his side quite awkwardly. That is definitely one thing he's good at.

"So, Luke and Jack are gonna be goin' to church with us now." Ashton explains quietly. And the curly headed blonde continues to go on and on about the happenings in the town and other things that Michael honestly doesn't care too much about and has mostly already heard. Michael takes note of a few things, but he can't help but wonder who the hell had the guts to burn down the New Haven church? No one in their right mind would go as far as setting the chapel to fire.

Michael forgets that Ashton is there until the older boy mentions that Luke and Jack will be finding new work within the community from now on. Just as Michael opens his mouth to reply, Reverend Abernathy enters the room.

He didn't know anyone else was in the room with him until they speak, startling him.

"You boys." A rock hard voice suddenly calls. Michael turns around, shocked at the presence of Reverend Samuel Abernathy. A tall, thin man in a long black robe. He stares at the two boys with an intent, frustrated gaze. Michael looks like a deer caught in headlights while Ashton stares at him like he could care less. "I hear a good grade of talking, but not enough working! Continue this and I will split your balances in half!" He scolds, obviously not feeling the need to hide his hatred for the talkative boys.

Michael's face flushes red with what's in between embarrassment and shock. The sight of the Reverend reminds him of what he did in the woods. He would be hanging him by now if he knew what he had done just a few hours ago. So his mouth opens and his brain goes wild. Off he goes. Blabbing on and on about excuses and apologies. Ashton gives him a warning look, and Michael ends up stopping mid-sentence as the Reverend glares.

"Hush boy! Leave Irwin to tend to this room! Now, scurry along! Off to the kitchen, boy!" Luckily, Reverend Abernathy doesn't think twice about how nervous he is. When is he not nervous, anyway?

"Sorry." Michael apologizes, fumbling with his fingers and obeying his boss' orders. He rushes into the kitchen with one thing on his mind—focusing his attention on preparing lunch for Reverend Abernathy, his daughter Betty, and— _quite_ _frankly_ —Abigail. Not wanting to stare at the Reverend's stern wrinkled scowl for any longer than he has to.

At the same time, the last person he wants to see is the blonde-haired girl that lived to cause trouble within the community. She gets away with everything due to the fact that she's Reverend Abernathy's niece.

He feels bad because he's definitely sure now that his feelings for Calum are in a certain way and that she'd never earn the opportunity to be with him. Once again, there Michael is, letting innocent people down and in this case, hurting a beautiful girl that is evidently infatuated with him. He doubts that she would send him to the ropes, but she'd be really damn pissed nonetheless.

Speaking of which, it doesn't exactly go in his favor when he zones out of his trance to see Abigail sitting at the table as if she had been waiting up for hours. He wouldn't be surprised if she did anyway.

Michael wants to leave, but now that he's in the kitchen, he figures Ashton can handle tending to the house chores by himself.

He looks down at the girl that is two years his junior, taking note of the black dress she is wearing. Black. A color that no one in Salem Grove wears due to it's high expenses. It is no mystery that she is dressed to impress.

"Good morning, Michael." She smiles widely at the sight of him. "D'you hear about the church?"

Michael doesn't respond and even if he wanted to, Abigail gives him no time to intervene. "Well, it was set on fire. Didn't think you knew. Since _no one_ really saw you at the gathering last night. I wonder why."

He bites his lip and thanks Reverend Abernathy for telling him not to speak during duties. At least he has an excuse for not responding to his biggest fan.

Then suddenly, Michael remembers that Abigail is a part of the family and can call the shots over him if she pleases to do so. So he takes a calm breath, as calm as he can, and generally says the exact same thing Ashton told him before hand.

Abigail laughs, and in this moment, Michael feels a bit nervous and insecure because _wow._ It always seems as if he's so inadequate and ridiculous enough for _everyone_ to laugh at him.

Abigail does a little giggle when Michael looks around confusedly. She props her chin on her palm in a relaxed manner.

"How did you know that, given that you weren't at the gathering? The whole community was there, but you weren't. Did anything become of you, Michael?" She questions calmly. Michael is glad that she isn't attacking him with _why_ and _who_ and _what_. He's especially glad that she doesn't mention Calum whatsoever, knowing he would slip up and say something really stupid. Then regret it times one thousand.

So, he tries to explain to Abigail where he was. His voice failing him occasionally, and by occasionally he means frequently—and his heart beating faster by the minute. So she cuts him off, and laughs again.

"I was joking, darling." She smiles, standing up from her chair and walking off a bit smugly. Thinking she's caught Michael in some kind of love-struck daze—when quite ironically, he's nervous about her knowing about him and Calum. If anything.

Along with the soreness from earlier...

Michael sighs in relief after she disappears. He trudges over to a clear bucket of water to wash his face and hands with it before he begins. It takes about thirty minutes to make lunch for the Abernathy's, Abigail and the Reverend both occasionally coming in to surveil him and make sure he's not poisoning the food or whatever reason they come in for. (Abigail, obviously to harass him.) Ashton also comes in later on and begins scrubbing the floors.

Once Michael is finished with lunch, he sets the table and lays out everything before calling in the Abernathy's for lunch. They sit and eat as Michael joins Ashton in the cleaning of the house.

"Who d'ya really think burned down the church?" Ashton says as he folds one of Abigail's white gowns. He places it neatly on the bed, only to pick up another light lavender one with little white frills on the edges.

"Uh..." Michael sighs, doing the same as Ashton with a clean black dress. "I'm not sure actually. I'm no genius."

Michael bites his lip, placing a bonnet neatly on the bed. "We're quite done with Abigail's room, I think." He says as he scans the room. "Let's move on?"

"I cleaned everything already." Ashton shrugs, slipping off his white gloves and pushing Abigail's shoes under her bed with the tip of his foot. "Your filthy boots ain't help one bit, but 'm quite finished."

"Oh, sorry." Michael murmurs. "Well I suppose we can go then, yeah? If you've cleaned everything."

"Mhm. Everything other than the Reverends room, of course." Ashton sighs as he places the folded clothing into a drawer. "A man must have his secrets, I s'pose."

"Yeah." Michael responds quietly, almost to himself. Nodding his head in approval at the statement. Swallowing the guilt in his voice. If anyone knows anything about secrets, it would be Michael Gordon Clifford. "Well, let's get moving then. Class starts in a few minutes or so."

.:|:.:|:.

" _Who_ is Jesus Christ?" Professor Seagate asks sarcastically, spreading her arms to emphasize her point.

 _Calum_ _Hood._

Michael rolls his eyes as he sits in the back of the classroom. Professor Seagate is teaching the class the same lesson that they have been learning for fourteen years now, the ascension of Jesus Christ. Michael feels it is unnecessary to be continuously reminded about the same thing all year long, so he draws a blank during this time.

He sits and plucks at the brownish papers of his bible, eyes scanning over the numerals and letters inside. He flips absentmindedly through the pages, his attention drifting further and further away from each of Professor Seagate's words by the second. _If his mind isn't already out at sea._ Eventually, the lecture becomes an incoherent blur that Michael doesn't care to hear, and his thoughts are suddenly elsewhere.

In the midst of Calum Hood and the New Haven church—his mind drifts to how Jesus Christ was so innocent, pure, and _kind_. He can't help but think about how Jesus was persecuted for exercising his beliefs. How he was tortured for standing up for what he believed in. When Michael thinks of him, he thinks of his boyfriend.

He compares Jesus' innocence to Calum's own. He thinks of how Calum stood up for him so long ago and was tortured as a consequence. Whenever this comes to mind, his stomach turns at the fact that it was _his_ fault.

He also remembers how Jesus was executed, and he grimaces at the thought of anything similar ever happening to Calum. Michael refuses to let anything similar be done unto him.

If Calum ever ceased to exist, then Michael wouldn't exist for too long afterward...

Sometimes, Michael dreams to live in a town where everyone wouldn't take the bible so literally. Even Michael, someone who was raised in a church is not an idealist. Nowhere near. He likes to think of the bible as a general guide. Not so much as 'this is what you have to do, so do it.'

For example—the story of David and Goliath.

Everyone Michael knows (except Calum and Luke), believes that David and Goliath was an actual, literal story. And they believe that David struck down a giant with the single blow of a rock. Michael believes it to be a moral and only a moral. 'The underdog can come through', or something along the lines of that.

Unfortunately, Michael is unable to daydream for any longer once Luke decides to ask a question. Something about the four gospels' way of describing the ascension. Not one person has a second to even open their mouths because Ashton is chiming in. Confidently explaining the answer to Luke's question. Only to have the teacher praise him for his catechism. As she always does.

Ashton smiles cockily. Michael doesn't care the least though, and he goes back to peacefully daydreaming for the rest of the class period.

It flies by slowly, _and painfully_. Professor Seagate discusses the same things over and over again, making comments that have Michael cringing. Parading her love for her pet, Ashton. Giving the boy more confidence to add to his already somewhat egotistic persona.

The ticking of the clock has Michael's vein's bubbling every second with anxiousness and he just wants to shout his desires to be set free from the hell hole.

The alarming sound of the bell goes off and Michael is more than ready to leave until the teacher speaks up yet again.

"Wait one moment class." Professor Seagate calls before anyone can attempt to leave. Michael nearly groans, and instead bites his lip hard enough to prevent anything disrespectful from departing his mouth.

"There will be a gathering tonight at the Salem Grove Courthouse." She explains to the classroom. And it seems as though she specifically looks at Michael when she says, "I expect to see you all there. Have a blessed day."

Michael stands from the long ebony table and grabs the leather book in front of him, heading for the door. He surely is desperate to leave this place. Ashton catches up to him, walking beside him with that straight back of his and that self-assured tone emphasizing his every step.

"Michael." Ashton starts. Eagerness in his tone. "Why d'you think he went missing?"

He stares straight at Michael, even though the blonde boy's eyes are in front of him.

" _What?_ Who?"

"Ben."

"Oh, um—I don't know. Maybe h—o-oh! Bye Luke, Jack." Michael waves as Luke and his older brother pass by. "Uh... Maybe he... Maybe he got tired of Salem Grove or something like that."

Michael could agree with Ben, if that were the case.

"Well, that would be the obvious answer wouldn't it, Michael?" Ashton rolls his eyes at the absurd response. Michael shrugs slightly as they follow the steps down the small wooden building.

The lighter blonde continues to look back and forth between the road and Ashton. He wants to know who burnt down the building and why Ben left as much as the next guy.

Ashton bites his lip in thought before his eyes light up like The Sun.

"Maybe he did it?" He offers slowly, looking up at Michael to see his opinion on the concept.

Michael thinks for a minute before shaking his head. "No. It's unlikely in my view... Ben was a good guy. I don't think he would have burned down an entire church for... Whatever reason the church was burned down for."

Ashton scoffs under his breath, making Michael's eyebrows furrow. He wants to say something but he does what he normally does, keeping his mouth shut. Michael has always been one to let everything slide.

Their neighboring houses come into view, and for some reason Michael is glad to be going home. Ashton has always been weird but now he's just giving off bad aura. Ever since the church burned down and Ben went missing.

"Bye, Ash." Michael murmurs when they pause at the point between their houses. Ashton waves, smiling gently at him before they both disappear into their small separate houses.

.:|:.:|:.:|:.

Later on that night, the entire town is gathered into the Salem Grove courthouse. A tall, wooden building with an open ceiling to reveal the night sky. Seats line in rows of ten all the way to the back of the building. Low whispers sound throughout the building as Reverend Abernathy stands on the slightly heightened pew. Stars are gleaming into the sky as it gets later into the night.

Reverend Abernathy begins by addressing matters that Michael doesn't care too much about. But the moment he finished the sentence that everyone expected to hear, Michael pulls his eyes from his lap.

"As most of you may know, the New Haven Church has been burned down."

The courthouse is so silent that all of Salem Grove can hear the crickets dancing outside. Even the hyperactive children a few rows up from Michael and Calum are sitting still. And Michael—well, Michael is trying his best to keep from biting his fingernails _or_ tapping his feet, _or_ constantly shifting around in his seat. But he continues to listen nonetheless.

"And a member of our community, Ben Hemmings, has gone missing."

Michael feels the anxiety kick in at the mention of Luke's oldest brother. He can only imagine how the younger blonde feels.

"We have called you here today for a community meeting. The demolishing of New Haven's very own church has most likely rattled all of you quite a bit. _However_. Some residents in Montpelier have promised to help restore New Haven's chapel with a new, _larger_ church. Until then, we gladly welcome everyone to our church in Salem Grove."

"Mercy be to God!" A woman sitting in the second row shouts, throwing her fist into the air.

"Now, addressing the current agricultural issues in Salem Grove." Reverend Abernathy begins a new topic, blabbing about the problems with the local animals stealing crops and startling cattle.

Michael is about to get ready for another twenty minutes of Reverend Abernathy's speech when he sees someone walking toward him in the corner of his eye. He smiles once he sees who it is.

"Hi." Michael whispers as a lanky figure comes to sit next to him. Luke. He wears a small, forced smile on his lips as he sits down carefully next to him.

"Hey." Luke whispers back, waving to Calum who is on Michael's other side.

Luke is probably Michael's best friend, other than Calum. Always looking out for Michael and being there for him. Luke is the only one in the world that Michael trusts with his secrets. Including the ones of Calum and him. The younger boy has always been a caretaker for Michael, and when his feelings for Calum began to grow, Luke was a bit worried for him. For the both of them. He especially didn't want anything to happen to Michael, and Michael was equally worried.

Calum is determined to be with Michael no matter what, though. Even if they have to prove their innocence by keeping their feelings concealed forever. Locking the truth up in a jar, only to be opened in the lilac field. Michael is just worth that much.

The air is crisp and cold, and it continues to etch at Michael's face, hands, and toes. He has to resist bundling into Calum's warmth as much as he would love to. As the courthouse suddenly breaks into chaos, Michael's attention is slightly driven elsewhere.

Abigail. The fourteen year old troublemaker waltzes onto the stand. She looks around a bit, hands clasped together against her long and rich, black gown. Everyone is tense and curious at this point, and Michael is somewhat dreadful of what Abigail has to say. She wears a serious, smug expression as if she's about to let the cat out of the bag.

Suddenly she opens her mouth, eyes locked cold on the crowd as they stare up at her with anticipation.

"I, ABIGAIL BRESLIN, ACCUSE JOSHUA MATISSE OF WITCHCRAFT. FOR BURNING DOWN THE NEW HAVEN CHURCH AND SERVING AS A HELPING FACTOR IN THE ESCAPE OF BEN HEMMINGS."

Suddenly her voice rides over the courthouse like a wave. Men rise to their feet and women drop to their knees, praying for the accused. Children shout, confused as to why they're following their father's rowdy and exciting actions.

It's complete chaos from then. Something parallel to a roaring fire on a cold evening night. Yelling and shouting and _complete recklessness_ outbreaks among the people.

Luke suddenly stands from beside Michael, with a furious expression as he goes to look for his father. Michael feels tiny then, as everyone yells and argues and towers over him. And who's still sat next to him is an equally shocked Calum. He seems a lot more calm, though. But Calum is always calm anyway so there's not much of a difference.

Abigail points into the vast crowd, aiming at a brunette in his early thirties.

The man isn't cruel at all—at least that's what Michael knows. He's a simple farmer who works at the plantation right behind Calum's school. He wonders how in the hell Abigail could even remotely trace the demolishing of New Haven Church to him. Yet Abigail always has her reasons though. And Michael, with this accusation of hers, is just slightly beginning to doubt them. He can't exactly say that she's wrong. What does he know, anyway?

Michael follows her pointed finger to see the young man. Joshua Matisse. Standing with wide eyes and an open mouth. He locks his eyes with those of Abigail Breslin. Who stands looking straight at him with this sort of daring glare lurking from her pale blue irises.

Then, Reverend Abernathy speaks. "Silence! Silence everyone!" He hushes the crowd sternly. The loud noises sluggishly simmer down into a few quiet whispers. And he speaks again.

"I will request for Reverend Firenze Olmsted, and Judge Isaac Cadwell from Montpelier."

_Okay._

"They will be representing the Salem Witch Trials..."

_Oh shit._

Michael turns towards Calum, whose eyes are locked behind him. He follows the raven boy's gaze, finding Ashton sat beside his mother and siblings, whose eyes are glued on the Reverend. But Calum isn't focused on Ashton, he's eyeing Ashton's younger brother, Harry. Harry throws Calum a lazy, forced smile—and it's obvious that he's worried for what Salem Grove has in store with the trials. Michael can't possibly blame the child. He's honestly just as frightened.

"There is _no_ salvation!" Abigail cries out. "There is _only_ damnation!"

This sends the crowd into another ruthless uproar. The air becomes tense and thick with excitement once again.

Michael turns back around only to find Calum staring right at him now. And he wonders how long he's been doing that. Michael bites his lip and picks gently at his (almost non-existent) fingernails. To prevent the strong urge to intertwine their hands and capture at least a little bit of Calum's touch. Which, Calum of course notices. And lays his hand over Michael's, despite the fact that they are in public and that people can question the two of them—then, they would be the ones placed on trial.

The brunette goes as far as pressing his soft lips to Michael's ear.

"I'm not afraid of being myself, so why are you?" He whispers, sending chills up Michael's spine. The frail boy has to use a scoff to cover the furious red burning on his cheeks, extending all the way up to the tips of his ears.

"W-We have rules to live by, Calum. And the manual doesn't instruct people like you and I to be in lo—involved like this."

A surge of guilt and frustration runs through Michael as he pulls his own hand away. Calum looks him up and down with disbelief, before his face hardens a little. Michael knows he hurt him and he feels everything _but_ bad about it.

"Screw the rules, Michael. Why would you even consider the rules important?" He asks with exhaustion in his voice as he slouches back into his seat.

" _The rules_ never stopped me from fucking you in the woods earlier." Calum makes quotation marks with his fingers as he continues.

"Mikey, the manual didn't instruct me to fall in love with you, yet somehow, here I am. So. _Okay_ , perhaps I'm breaking the rules. But me wanting us to be together doesn't make me a bad person. It makes me fucking human." Calum pushes his fingers back over the edge of Michael's hand. Making the pale boy turn cherry red.

Michael can't possibly argue with that, so he faces forward and mentally takes note of how angry the people are. The maelstrom fails to cease and it doesn't look like it will any time soon.

Behind the waves of people, Michael is met with Abigail's eyes, her posture stood tall and full of covet. He attempts to not pay her or Calum any mind, but Calum can see the look in his eyes and he bites his lip. Slipping his hand away subtly as Abigail eyes Michael down.

Michael can practically feel the anger radiating off of Calum's skin. He knows for a fact that his lover can be a bit of a lip biter, so he's thankful that he doesn't pick a fight with the Reverend's niece. That would make situations worse. If things weren't already going insane.

.:|:.:|:.:|:.:|:.

Michael tries his best to clear his head after the community gathering at the courthouse. He can't find it in himself to speak due to several things—starting with the revelation of the Salem Witch Trials, along with how his last conversation with Calum ended at the courthouse, and _God_ , he can barely imagine what Luke and his family are going through. He sighs once he reaches the creek near Luke's house in New Haven.

Everything is on his mind at this point. So he's glad _they've_ decided to take a little trip to the creek near Luke's house in New Haven. Like almost everything else in Salem Grove—the creek is enclosed with forestry. These woods hold secrets that stay in these woods. Michael is thankful for that.

It always has been quite a beautiful sight. With tall pines and overgrowth stretching for a good few miles. The variety of greens from vines and moss blend in with the vibrant hues in the small flowers. The trees tower over them, letting them see only dashes of starlight streaming through the cracks between the trees. It's a shame that the people in the community need the wood for resources and whatever their heart desires, but Michael is glad that Reverend Abernathy made the pledge to keep the forest alive and rich. It's the one thing Michael values about the man's judgement.

Once they arrive, Calum is the first to slip off his hat and leather boots beside the creek. The poor dark haired boy has the least to be worried about. _Beyond everything_ , it is _Luke_ who has a family member being tried. Plus, _Michael_ is the one with the anxiety. So, _no_ , he is not worried, but one thing that he's sure he is is tired.

It's almost midnight now. The crickets chirp peacefully by the shore, making a soft beat to reduce the wretched silence of the night. The creek hums softly as they strip down.

Calum yawns, placing his left hand over his mouth before Luke, who has cooled down by now, finally speaks.

"Hey, why did Ashton decide not to come?"

Michael can't quite put his finger on why Luke always asks that stupid question. Ashton is never with them since he has important matters to take care of at home. He wants to tell him about Ashton's home duties, but can't seem to find inspiration. He wants to tell Calum that he's sorry for picking a fight, but he knows the raven boy already hates him.

Luke nods because, _yes_ , he also knows. In fact, he overheard the lovers' conversation back at the courthouse. And it doesn't make it any better that they would most likely be the ones on trial if Abigail knew about them. But then again, it isn't them being put on display. It's Ben.

" _Oh_ , I'm pretty sure he had some chores at home." Calum responds nonchalantly. Just now realizing that Luke asked them a question. He undoes his belt.

"Ah," Luke nods as he tosses both his boots aside and slips off his shirt, Michael following suit. He tosses the clothing items down rather intricately nearby. Only to supposedly disrupt a firefly from whatever it was doing. As it plumes into the air and begins flickering on and off around in circles over Michael's clothes.

Once he's finished stripping himself to his trousers, he glances around—trying to find something to focus his eyes on—and he finds the moon and stars. They align in a perfect, shimmering ring in the dark midnight sky. The moon just barely hitting the Earth. He sighs contently, feeling calm at the sudden sight of it. He looks down at his feet for a few moments, then goes back to searching for something to lay his eyes on as the other boys get undressed. And he finds Calum.

The dark haired boy inches his pants from his hips, revealing yards of tan, coarse muscle underneath the brown fabric. Michael lets in a sharp breath, biting his lip as he eyes down Calum's thighs. He wishes the boy wasn't upset with him because he really can't help the flush, blossoming shade of vermilion on his cheeks when he looks up at him innocently.

Luke chuckles, shaking his head gently as the boy gets flustered at the sight of his lover. Knowing exactly every change in Michael's mood and why it happens at all times. And most times, _how_ to change it.

Calum smiles cheekily at him, making Michael scoff and blush harder as he folds his hands over his chest and looks away.

The last thing Michael expects is to receive a passionate kiss from Calum, feeling the forgiving boy's hands as they reach up—one being pressed against his cheek and the other holding the back of his neck gently. Making Michael's blush rise all the way up to his ears as Calum traces the side of his face with his thumb.

Michael kisses back lightly, and just as he starts to go pliant to Calum's touch, he pulls away. Smiling and biting his lip in a manner that has Michael nearly melting with adoration. Michael bites his lip too, feeling completely and utterly infatuated with the confident boy. They almost forget Luke is there until he voices...

"In need of a spare room, I s'pose?"

Calum responds by nudging Luke on the shoulder, making the youngest boy laugh. The two blondes finally strip down into their underwear and begin making their way to the creek. Michael takes in a deep, shallow breath and tosses them aside lazily.

Calum's fingers immediately lock with Michael's the moment their toes kiss the water of the creek. Calum guides Michael into the gentle flowing stream, his feet moving across the small rocks. Calum is amused by the big grin on Michael's face as the pale boy laughs at the feeling.

You can hardly see anything outside at this point of night. Except for the reflection of starlight slowly being washed away in the steady currents. Michael can feel the very refreshing breeze purring at his knees and Calum's warm hands caressing his fingertips. The presence of tadpoles is tangible, kissing his toes is such a familiar feeling, and _fuck_ does everything feel right in the world.

With his best friend and his lover, dancing in the growth like they used to.

Michael glances over at Luke, who is obviously high strung at the feeling of _baby frogs_ rushing over his ankles. Michael giggles at his distraught expression.

It's been awhile since Luke has tagged along with the two lovers to go creek stomping, and it's a great feeling for Michael, to say the least.

It's mostly silence, other than the sound of calm rushing water and their feet splashing in the streams. Most likely the cause of the new information from the reckless town meeting. Along with the haunting fact that Luke's oldest brother has been put under accusations as a source for the wrongdoing. Michael feels ashamed because he's the one at fault, in his eyes. Roaming around with Calum all the time and all.

The lingering silence gives Michael a chance to stare off into space and just think for a few minutes. He really shouldn't, though. The last thing he should be doing is thinking right now. He's with his best friend and his boyfriend, under the night sky, rebelling against the world. He shouldn't be thinking. He should be living right now.

Overthinking is a terrible habit of his. So terrible that it'll have him breaking down with anxiety. Have him shaking, his mind so filled with worries and what if's that it's almost clouded with black. But he's calm holding Calum's hand tonight, so he lets his mind run free.

The trials, is the very first thing that comes to mind.

Michael hasn't been alive long enough to witness an actual trial. He's been to a courthouse meeting and obviously he's witnessed quite a few hangings. (If that's something to be proud of.) He was forced to sit and watch his lover be tortured. Put under a fucking scorching metal rod until there was a black mark on his chest. And no, that's not something Michael likes to think about, but it wasn't a trial. At least not a serious one.

The Reverend is calling upon judges from other communities far away from here. People have lost their damn minds. This is _serious, serious shit._ And something about it makes Michael uneasy.

If Abigail was that quick to accuse Joshua Matisse of witchcraft, and of burning down New Haven's church, then Michael wonders what else she'd do. Something in him is anxious to go to Abernathy's house to find out more about the Salem Witch Trials.

Calum presses a gentle kiss to the back of Michael's hand, and Michael stares at his lips for a moment, smiling gently as Calum lifts his head back up to face him again. With those brown eyes that have a bad habit of catching the starlight perfectly and keeping it hostage.

"S'why I never hang out with you lads. Always making me feel like a third wheel." Luke suddenly chuckles, kicking the water with his toes. Sending a small splash of water into the air like Michael's thoughts. Calum grins, using his free hand to grab Luke's.

"Oh, Lucas. Don't you know we're three sheets to the wind?" Calum sighs with a goofy grin stretching across his face. Luke chuckles again.

"Yeah, you're right." He mumbles, knowing the three of them have been a tricycle for a very long time. "Ashton is almost never with us."

Michael nods, breaking away from Calum's grasp for a moment to bend over the water and splash into it. He tosses a few rocks around, letting them skip across the black starlit body. Calum drags Luke further into the deeper part of the creek—the water just reaching Calum's hips, and Luke's thighs. Michael sits and smiles from a distance, watching as they grin and splash each other, trying to conceal their laughter.

"C'mon out, Michael!" Calum calls for him, making Michael bite his lip and shrug. Swirling his hands around in the running water.

"Please? Do it for me?" Calum whines. "I'd never let anything happen to you, love. You know that."

Michael blushes at the nickname, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile at his lover's words. He stands up, his feet chilled against the cool rocks beneath them as he strides for the larger part of the creek. He slowly steps into the chilly waters, gasping gently when he feels small fish brush across his legs.

He gives Calum a lopsided smile. His lip slipping under his teeth as Calum's hands trail up his waist. The overruling warmth of his hands shooting all around him.

"See? Now isn't this fun?" Calum whispers sweetly. Mikey hums fondly, pressing a quick kiss to his jaw, only to blush afterwards.

He cups the water with his hands as Calum smiles at him—before he gets the puddle launched onto his face.

Michael bursts out into uncontrollable laughter as Calum sputters, staring at him in amused disbelief. He splashes water back at him, making Michael shriek quietly and guard his face.

Michael flails his hands against the water, sending wave after wave of water splashing onto Calum's face. Luke joins in as well, and falls on his back. Kicking his legs just to send him propelling off. Trailing jolts of water in the two boys faces during the process.

"Shhh!" Michael giggles as his feet slap hard against the water. Michael hasn't had this much fun in a while now, and something in him doesn't want them to have to go home. But just as this comes to mind—Luke stands upright again, and looks to the sky. "It's starting to get late, Michael." He says slowly.

Michael sighs, nodding. "I know."

"Okay, _father._ " Calum chuckles, rolling his eyes. Only to have Luke dismiss him completely.

"I think you should get Michael home. His mum might be worried or something."

Michael groans, slapping his palm against his temple. He had completely forgotten about his parents.

"I gotta go, Cal." Michael sighs. Calum ignores this and pulls him in for another long, soft kiss. This time, he allows Michael to take a moment and enjoy it. He closes his eyes and lets the feeling of Calum's warmth encase his lips, spreading to his chest.

When he pulls away he's blushing all the way to his ears, so it's definitely worth it.

"Guess so."

They hurry to the shallow end of the bank where the water flows, and let the air dry them off a bit before they put on their clothes. Calum takes Michael's hand and guides him through the thickets and the trees. Being sure to take his sweet time even though Michael probably should be back by now.

They emerge from the thick forest, and are met with Luke's straw cabin. He waves his goodbye, and leaves Michael and Calum to themselves.

Michael can't stop blushing as Calum holds his hand the entire way back to his house. Down the gravel road and past the houses that are probably still buzzing with life and anxiety over tonight's events.

"Someone could see us you know..." He murmurs into the chilly midnight air. He can see his breath, and one part of him doesn't want Calum to let go. Ever in a million years.

"So be it, lovely." Calum smirks as Michael's house comes into view. He leads Michael to his door and smiles.

"Go on, little boy." He says jokingly, giving Michael's bum a soft pat. To which Michael, as one could imagine, scoffs over the burning flush on his cheeks. Then hurries to his front door to face a cold night alone.

"Goodnight, Calum." He smiles in his doorway, his eyes glued to the ground.

"Goodnight, Mikey."

Michael sighs as he walks into his home. He looks around with wide eyes, searching for any trace of his mother or father. Yet silence is the only thing to wade through the house, even still. And Michael knows he's in the clear.

He slips off his leather boots and plants them neatly by the door, and immediately heads for his room. Michael is lucky enough to even have a room. It's nothing like those of the Abernathy family, but it's an actual room that he can keep to himself. Not spacey and not dolled up in the very slightest, but it's his room and he's thankful for the quiet that it provides.

He strips down to his underwear and places his knitted hat at the foot of his bed.

He slowly climbs into it, the thin mattress creaking slightly at his weight.

And suddenly. Michael gets a terrible feeling behind his eyes, and in his head, and he knows exactly what's going to become of him. It's like he can sense it nowadays. Sense that he can't sleep tonight because his mind is just too fucking buzzed to rest.

He's been thinking all damn day and trying to clear his head, yet he's still sat here. About to spend another night struggling to dream.

Calum. He starts to think about Calum.

Yeah, Michael honestly wishes he could be right there next to him. Feel his warmth, just like the night they had hung around in the woods and fell asleep there. Michael can almost feel Calum wrapping those protective arms around his waist. He can almost feel his warmth, and he sighs. He really loves that boy, honest. He's just so scared of what could happen to them.

Calum can get frustrated with Michael, quite obviously. He just wants to love him all over and let the entire world know. Which is something to be proud of—being so comfortable in your skin and in what you do. But in all honesty, if Michael wasn't the way he is, they would be hanging from ropes this very second. At least that's how things go in their world.

Michael likes to think that Calum would be better off if he didn't have him. Which is a giant, colossal lie. Both of them would be a complete fucking wreck, but they would be safe. But it would be completely dead and jet black in their hearts. Which is way worse than being executed. One could only know when their heart is drowned in black.

Michael tries to think of more happy things, like the fact that he actually has such a beautiful, loving person like Calum. The fact that, for whatever reason, Michael is somehow worthy of having someone like Calum. Just him being alive is a blessing. And he starts to remember all of the reasons why he's fighting for this. Fighting to stay his.

He starts playing with his fingers, forming as many weird shapes as he can, making his fingers walk across the wooden frame of his bed. He can tell it's going to be a very very long night, so why even try falling asleep. Usually when he's fighting to stay conscious he falls even deeper asleep.

Abigail.

Abigail Abigail Abigail.

He can't help thinking about her now. Boy, does Michael think _a lot._ A lot about everything. Not that he likes too, but shit, it happens.

Something about Abigail's accusations feel odd to Michael. The church burned down just last night before Calum and Michael got back. So Michael is confused as to how Abigail collected enough proof to declare that Joshua Matisse burned down a church in just one damn day. It seems a bit sketchy to him, but he'll have to see when the trials begin. Michael just hopes he can stay awake for the trials. At this point it seems unlikely.

Michael thinks to himself about how unfair and unjustified the entire town of Salem Grove proves to be. How someone could simply end another's entire reputation, life, with a simple line. Just before his eyelids become heavy and his breath steadies into a soft rhythm. And he's asleep. Finally, it seems like a miracle.

In a calm, _dreamless_ sleep.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave comments, ideas, suggestions, or any particular feedback in general.  
> This story will take some time because I am very precise with my work. :-)


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